


If You Like It Too Much

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: Number One Crush [14]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Motorcycle Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive/Protective!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's always been really protective over his motorcycle, so of course Natasha wants to have a go at it when he's not around.  If she'd have known that getting caught would be that much fun, however, she'd have done it much sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Like It Too Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holliswrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holliswrites/gifts).



> Hello! Steadily making my way through the prompts and kink ideas I have, so expect a few more updates of this fic than the others I have. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you like it!

There were a few things that Nat knew better than to mess with, and Steve’s bike was one of them.  It was a gorgeous piece of machinery, and though  he’d never tell her outright that she shouldn’t play around with it, well, she could tell in the way he always shot her a sideways glance when she drew near, or when she would lay a hand on it he would immediately take hers in his own.  But he was away on mission and she’d always really liked the bike, so when she came down to the garage she made a beeline for it, bypassing the Audi R8 and the Acura in favor of standing beside the large motorcycle.  Her hand ghosted over the wide set handlebars, running her fingers over the headlight before she moved to straddle the bike.  It felt good between her legs, as solid as her soldier, and she let herself smile and dragged the tips of her fingers over the keyhole.  In her mind she could imagine the way the machine would purr beneath her, vibrating and shaking with life and energy, ready to be turned loose on the world.  She felt a shiver go up her spine and then a hand clenched on her breasts and she was tipped backwards--.

Steady lips pressed against hers, taking her breath away, looking up to see the side of Steve Rogers’ head, and she pulled away with a soft gasp, scrambling to get up from the bike.  

“Sorry, Steve.”

“What were you doing, kitten?” He murmured, sounding curious and intrigued at the same time.  

“Nothing.  Just making sure your bike was--.”  Was what?  For once, Natasha found herself wordless, tongue-tied, and just smiled up at her boyfriend.  “It’s really pretty,” she smiled and leaned up on her toes so that she could kiss his cheek.  When in doubt deflect and talk fast enough that he couldn’t dare fault her for it.  She turned to leave, telling him she’d see him later, when he caught her wrist.  

“Kitten.”  

The nickname went right to her core, heating up between her thighs and getting her drunk on hormones.  “Yes?”  She turned and smiled.  

He stopped and stroked the side of her face, but before she could so much as say another word he had her flipped and bent over the bike.  She gasped, the air leaving her lungs, and whirled her attention back to him.  What was he--?

“Stay put,” he murmured, bringing his hand back down the small of her back so that she couldn’t turn all the way.  When he was certain she wouldn’t move, she felt his hand trail lower to the shorts she’d worn specifically so she could feel the machine between her legs.  Well, she was about to get her wish wasn’t she?  At least, so long as he didn’t stop.  He better not stop, not now that she knew exactly what he was doing.  Her hands clasped the smooth chrome edges of the bike when he started to slip her shorts from her, giving a quiet hum of approval once he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties.  

“Just what were you going to do to my bike?” He asked, voice lilted with a tease as he traced her slit with one finger, a grin in his voice when he felt how wet she already was.  She couldn’t help it; her brain was hardwired every time he started telling her to do something or ordering her around to become aroused.  It sometimes posed a problem in the field, but she tried to find words for what she had planned.  

“Well, I just wanted to know what it felt like.  By myself.  You never let me go by it, so I was just wondering what was so addictive,” she admitted.  “Starting to get a little jealous, Steve.  You’re never that protective over me.”  She was teasing, but his hand on her back tightened on her hip just slightly.  Oh, well if he wanted to take it seriously she wouldn’t mind.  

“You think that way?”

She shrugged.  

His lips pressed to the middle of her back, then trailed lower as he started to hike the edge of her shirt up so he could find bare skin.  She barely suppressed a shudder.  “I’ll be more protective of you if you’d like,” he said against her spine, eliciting a moan from her.  “I’ll keep you all to myself, guard you from everyone else.  Would you like that?  Do you want me to horde you like the precious gem that you are?” He asked, more than aware of how her body responded to his words.  He pushed one finger slowly into her, his breath hitching when she let out a low, greedy moan.  “Do you want me to chain you up to my room so you can never leave?  I’ll keep the door locked day and night so I’m the only one who can get in, who can see you like that.  You’ll be mine, all mine, forever.  Do you want that, Tasha?”  He bit her exposed hip, sucking on the skin until there was a deep purple mark and she’d started fidgeting, pressing back against his hand to ask for more as words failed her.  Immediately complying, he pressed another, and when that became too familiar for her, he inserted a third, each of them reaching deep within her to twist and coax every last moan from her lips they could.  His thumb found her clit and rubbed, hard, against the nub until she was thrashing beneath him, skin brushing up against the cold, untouched metal just often enough to make her skin hypersensitive.  His laugh was hot on her shoulder, the combining temperatures heaven and hell at the same time on her skin.  .  

“If you think this is bad, just wait until you see what I’m going to do to you.  You’re mine, Natasha.  All mine,” he said.  She heard the zip of his jeans and felt the fabric shift against her skin as his jeans dropped to the ground.  His cock sank swiftly into her cunt and she choked on a mix of pleasure and surprise, the finest lines of pain highlighting the two as he got quickly to work.  The slap of his hips against hers, the slight creak of the bike as he worked into her over and over again atop it, the way his hands covered hers and pressed her fingers tighter around the small holds she’d gotten--it was perfect.  She couldn’t have dreamed it any better, and her head twisted so she could look back at him.  Steve looked like he was in seventh heaven; his mouth was slightly agape, eyes hooded and a light flush had started on his cheeks that spread beautifully down his chest.  Her mouth watered at the sight, and she did her best to twist and lean back to kiss him.  He wasn’t about to complain, moaning as his tongue pressed past her lips without a problem, her teeth moving eventually to nip against his lower lip, then his chin, dragging the sharp edges against what she could reach of his throat.  All the while he never stopped fucking her.  Only once, after she’d had her first orgasm, did he pause.  His lips spread with a grin.  

“Let me readjust you,” he murmured, slipping out of her with the quietest of groans.  She mirrored it, unable to focus on anything as his hands took hold of her and laid her down atop the bike.  It wasn’t exactly comfortable, the hump in front of the seat frigid on her skin and the wires and metal fixings near the handlebars biting into her back, but it was all worth it as he sat himself in front of her and dragged her across the smooth surface back onto his cock.  She wrapped her legs around his hips and let him take over, working her as easily as well-oiled machine if she was truthful with herself.  His hips were a damn human engineering feat, never faltering in speed or strength, even as time ticked by and she came over, and over.  

“Steve--it’s your turn,” she said, voice hoarse from shouting so many times.  “C’mon St--fuck.”  She arched her back as he thrust into her, harder than he had before, and after a few more repeat thrusts, all of which were littered with his name and her begging him to finish inside her, his hips stuttered and he pressed himself flush against her.  The come spilled from inside her onto the bike, dripping past the polished metal surfaces.  She knew he’d clean it up eventually, relaxing as he leaned to press his head to her abdomen, panting like a winded animal and shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.  It was her turn to run her fingers through his hair, cooing how amazing that was.  She wasn’t in any hurry to get off the bike.  In fact, if she never had to take another vehicle that would be alright with her.  The memories were just too great.  

 


End file.
